fortuna favori heelius

Morning at the Chateau de Healy.
Ireland's greatest living poet is in the kitchen quaffing coffees with his mother.
"Jackie's been looking for you," sez the Mammy, referring to my rich sister in law.
"Bloody hell," quoth I.
"Why bloody hell?" sez she.
"Because if Jackie's looking for me, then the odds are she wants to give me money for the American trip."
"Do you think?"
"I know. And not only that. Uncle Scutch is up to the same trick. He told me last night he was going to pay for the whole thing."
"Why would either of them be doing that?" wondered the Lildebeest.
"Lil old pal," I explained earnestly, "it has to be pity. There can be no other conclusion. I'm not going to fight it. At long last being the black sheep of the family is starting to pay off."